


My Skin had to be thicker

by Septic84



Series: Ghost version of myself [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Caregivng, Comfort, Depression, M/M, Phil's POV, Sad and Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26334892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Septic84/pseuds/Septic84
Summary: Phil is always a good Caregiver when Dan's depression reappears, Phil reflects on what that means.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: Ghost version of myself [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1097367
Kudos: 13





	My Skin had to be thicker

I look at him from across the room; he looks tired. His hair is a disheveled mess; a thin blue line lies underneath his eyes. I know that he is struggling, but I am afraid to pop the thin bubble layer that has been us pretending it isn’t bad again.  
It’s quarantine, I am sure of it. We didn’t go out that much as it was, but now knowing that we couldn’t (Well, it was more like we shouldn’t) took away some of the control he was still trying to cling to.  
“Dan?”  
“Hm?”  
“Why don’t you go to bed?”  
“It’s 1:00 pm, Phil,”  
“You’re tired,”  
“News flash, depression.”  
“Right,” I stopped trying, at least for now. I have come to know when my words will only make things worse. “I am going to the office,”  
“Don’t need my permission,” I held back the exasperated sigh that was demanding to be released. I knew he was trying to get a reaction; it was something he did subconsciously, I think. He wanted to get the feelings out, but he would do so by aggression. He knew it was an issue, but he was still working on it. This is why I just walked away. I knew it was best not to engage with him when he was like this. I also knew that he was going to feel like shit about it later. I didn’t have anything to do in the office, but I wanted to create some space. Part of what I had learned reading various books and forums was to create some distance for myself. It took a while before the words stopped stinging, but now I could remove myself if I needed to.  
Dan never intended to hurt me, but I knew that depression came as part of the package, at least I did now. I knew that he wouldn’t always be kind, that his words wouldn’t always make me smile and that sometimes I just needed a break.  
When it dawned on me that this was the case, I was so mad at myself. I felt like I had abandoned him like I was leaving him alone in a dark, scary room with no way out. At least if I were there, he could see the exit and know it would get better. I spent the better part of two weeks degrading myself for my perceived lack of strength and will power I had to of left him.  
He told me to leave, well actually what he had said was, “I know I am a dick when I am like this, so you should just fucking leave me,” The hot white rush of panic made me assure him that I wouldn’t leave, that he wasn’t a dick and that it was fine. Which it was, for a while, but everyone has their limits. Mine was when I asked if he wanted anything, and he told me to bugger off, except it came out as, “You are not my fucking dad, Phil. I don’t need you to change my fucking nappies,” I actually felt my face heat, and my eyes fill as I turned and walked away. I locked myself in the office for hours that day, fell asleep on the desk, and didn’t emerge until afternoon. Dan seemed to be better the next day, as he approached me, “We need to talk,”  
“Yeah,” I had choked out, “We do,” That was the most challenging conversation we had; Dan was sincere, I was as honest as I could be, and we worked out somewhat of a plan. He had included his therapist, and we all decided that the best option for us was for me not to engage Dan, so that’s what we have been doing. It’s not easy; I still want to coddle him, hold him, and tell him that he is going to be okay. Tell him he is worthy of love and attention and praise, but that’s selfish, as well as extremely invalidating. So, here I sit, looking up random things on Google. The problem that we are having is a timeframe, sometimes it’s an hour, sometimes it’s days, but we work through it.  
Dan had timidly approached me more times than I can count to apologize, I always made sure to be very understanding and forgiving. I knew he loved me, I knew he didn’t want to hurt me, and I knew that he was already upset enough with himself for the both of us.  
A little over an hour had passed when I went back downstairs; Dan was curled into the corner of the sofa, limbs awkwardly tucked away as if to make himself as small as possible. “Hey, Dan,” I said, placing a hand on his back, “You should try to eat something,” lifting his head slightly, I saw the blue now combine with puffy red splotches.  
“Phil, I’m, you know,”  
“Yeah, love, I know. I forgive you; I love you; I am not leaving you.”  
“Okay,”  
“How about a bath, hm?” He shook his head; I always tried that first. I knew how good it made him feel, but I also know the extreme amount of effort it took to actually go through with, “Okay, food, then.”  
“I’m not hungry,’  
“No, I’d imagine not, you still need to eat something.”  
“I can’t even think about food; I am going to projectile vomit everywhere.”  
“Soup, it is then, coffee?”  
“I guess,”  
“Okay, be right back,”  
I started the soup and reached for the decaffeinated coffee; I still don’t know if Dan knows that I juke him.; caffeine is not something that helps him, but the flavor is a comfort, and I want him to have it. A friend once asked me if I ever had gotten sick of taking care of him like a child, making sure he didn’t drink or eat things he shouldn’t, bathing, teeth brushing, I saw red. I know there wasn’t a malicious intent, but my shock could be seen on my face. How dare someone to assume what I am doing it a burden? How dare they presume to know something so private, so personal, so us? I stopped speaking to them for months. Looking back now, I think they were just concerned for me; being a caregiver can be really difficult. Was it always easy? No, of course not, but it was still always worth it. The love I feel for Dan is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Of course, I would do this for him. Did I get burned out? Yeah, maybe at first when Dan was undiagnosed and was entirely too far into denial to see that he needed help. It was a difficult time for us both, not just me. I took a break, then, going home for a week and came back. When I did, Dan already had an appointment.  
That’s the thing that most people either overlook or fail to recognize with depression; while you are in the darker places, you still are just as smart as you were. You are not dumb, nor native, and most of the time, you know what you are doing to yourself and probably even others, but you can’t really change it. At least without the proper tools. Dan is so clever, so witty, that I know when he is sucked into the black hole of nothingness, it destroys him when he can feel again. Your personality, flaws, and quirks don’t all evaporate entirely; the just are put into a really hard to open container that is weighted down by massive amounts of whatever your particular flavor is misery is.  
“Soup, coffee,”  
“Thanks,” He looks a little better now; maybe a good cry is what he needed. His lips are swollen, and his eyes are still shiny, my heart clenches, but I don’t let him know.  
“Do you want to watch something?”  
“Don’t care,”  
I turned on a nature documentary about sloths; there was nothing but information and happiness in this particular one. (I should know, I had watched it three times.) I tried to focus more on the screen than Dan, just peeking at him every so often. He was watching the screen, sipping coffee, and taking small slurps off of his spoon. This was good; some days, it took me a lot of convincing to get him to eat.  
When he snickered at a pun that was made halfway through, I felt as if a weight were lifted off of me; I felt so light I could float away. This storm had been a short one, it would seem, but I wouldn’t know for sure until the following day, no matter how the night ended. Despite knowing this and knowing how disappointing it was when the new day might not bring what I wanted, I smiled. This was better, this was good, this was progress.  
“You look loopy tired,” he looked at me, and one corner of his mouth slightly showed sympathy. I wasn’t something just anyone would catch; it was something someone who had studied for years would see.  
“Yeah, it’s getting late.”  
“Yeah,”  
“Would you like anything else to eat?”  
“No, ah, thanks,”  
“I’m glad you could eat the soup,” I said, standing, patting his leg, and taking his dishes. After putting all things back and shutting off the kitchen light, I refilled our bedside waters and set them down. I made sure the bed was easy to get into, leaving one of my hoodies on Dan’s pillow just in case the extra comfort would help him. “Do you want to take a bath before sleeping?” He shook his head, “Are you okay with me, sleeping in the same bed tonight?” Sometimes when he was like this, he wanted to sleep alone, something else we had hatched out when we actually talked. I respected it; I never made him feel bad for it, I allowed him his space.  
“Yeah,”  
“Okay, up then,” Dan carefully stood up and stretched. He followed me into our bathroom and started to mirror my routine, washing our faces and brushing our teeth. After I was convinced Dan had done a proper job, we rinsed out mouths and headed to bed. I guess it was somewhat like I was taking care of a child if you were on the outside looking in, but with a child, I would have to tell them to do things because they didn’t know well enough, with Dan he knew, he just couldn’t force himself to do it. I never want Dan to feel like I am patronizing him or that I think he is an actual child because, of course, I don’t. He hasn’t ever said anything like that, but sometimes I wonder and worry.  
“On or off?” My finger hovered over the switch for the nightlight I had bought, knowing sometimes Dan would need it.  
“Ah,”  
“I’ll just turn it on, and if it bothers us, we can turn it off, okay?”  
“Yeah, okay.” Carefully he climbed into bed as if he were in pain. Actually, he could be; I hear depression even physically hurts.  
“Do you need tablets?”  
“No, just want to sleep,”  
“Okay, love.” I crawled in next to him, laying on my back, my head resting on my arms. I had to keep my hands to myself until told otherwise, which was a difficult task. All I wanted to do is hold Dan tightly to my chest and murmur soft words of love and comfort into his ear as he fell asleep. I feel the bed shift, and Dan inch closer. Slowly he lays with his head on my chest, and I can feel him hug me slightly. With consent granted, I wrapped my arms around him and pressed a kiss into his hair.  
“I know I probably don’t deserve this with how I acted earlier, so thank you.”  
“Dan, I wouldn’t do that to you. You know, that, right? I understand.” I felt him still, “I understand that you feel bad,” I continued, not wanting to offend him, “I understand that what happened made you sad. It’s okay. I’ve already forgiven you. We are working through this. YOU are working through this; you are brave, and I am always going to be here for you.”  
“You are too good to me, you know,” He says through a loud yawn.  
“Well, I am Amazing Phil,” I can hear his scoff softly into my chest.  
“My Amazing Phil,”  
“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> I suddenly wanted to write, so here is a story. It's editing somewhat, but It was put together in about an hour and a half, so if there are mistakes, please forgive me.  
> Please follow me on Tumblr, [Septic84](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/septic84)


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